This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Kain jolted awake.

His breath came in shallow, rapid gasps, his body slick with cold sweat.

His fingers curled instinctively against the rough fabric beneath him, his senses frantically grasping for something—anything—familiar.

Gone was that horrifying city of nightmares. Gone was the monstrous, staring eye. Instead, a dimly lit room greeted him, lined with rows of occupied gurneys. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and antiseptic, the low hum of whispered conversations and pained groans surrounded his disoriented mind like an unpleasant background noise.

‘Was it a dream? But it felt so real… like I was actually there.’

Kain’s heart pounded against his ribs. The image of that eye—its sheer, overwhelming presence—refused to get out of his head, lingering in his mind with an intensity far beyond any nightmare. It had felt real. Too real.

His body ached, a deep soreness settling into his bones. Particularly his back, as though he lied in only one position for days—perhaps he had.

He attempted to shift, but the effort sent a sharp sting through his side, forcing him to grit his teeth. Only then did he notice the tubes attached to his arms, thin lines connecting him to outdated medical machines injecting various colored liquids into his veins like some kind of primitive I.V. drip.

His gaze drifted to a bag on the floor, stuffed with his clothes—dirty, sweat-soaked, and clearly changed at least twice. If nothing else, it was clear he’d been here for a while. Likely ever since he collapsed on the battlefield.

‘Then… I never actually left, right? My mind must have been messed up from overdrafting my lifeforce. I must have hallucinated… that horrible place.’ Kain comforted himself, but deep down, he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

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A soft rustling interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

The curtain surrounding his bed shifted, and a woman stepped into his sectioned-off space.

She wore a healer’s uniform—practical and somewhat worn, the fabric stained with dried blood from treating the wounded.

Light brown hair was tied back in a loose bun, stray strands framing her face. In one hand, she held a clipboard filled with what appeared to be his medical records, while the other carried a glass container filled with bright blue liquid.

Kain’s eyes flicked between the strange-looking container and the tubes in his arms, and he guessed that she must be here to refill this strange looking “I.V. drip”

Then, she looked up.

Their eyes met.

The healer’s breath hitched audibly. A startled yelp escaped her lips. Clearly, she hadn’t expected anyone in this ward to be awake.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, without a word, she turned on her heel and bolted.

The clipboard slipped from her grasp, clattering against the floor, its pages fluttering wildly as she shoved past the curtain and disappeared down the aisle of the ward.

From beyond the thin fabric walls of his makeshift room, hurried footsteps echoed, fading into the distance.

Kain blinked.

‘What?’

His sluggish mind struggled to catch up.

‘What kind of bullshit medical care is this?! I’m a patient, how could you just run away?! Zero-star review!’

But the absurdity of the situation faded quickly as Kain tried to reason her actions. If she had simply been unprofessional, she might have gasped or hesitated. But the way she ran, the sheer urgency of it…

His pulse quickened. Something was wrong.

And now that he was paying attention—there was something else. The battle.

Or rather, the lack of it.

The distant booms of colliding steel and monstrous roars that had become the constant backdrop of the city’s defense were gone. No fresh waves of injured were being brought in.

What the hell happened while I was unconscious? Did we win? Or did we lose and were forced to flee to a neighbouring city-state?’

Before he could entertain worse possibilities, the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears—quick, purposeful strides. The curtain was yanked aside.

A familiar face stood there.

Nadia.

Her piercing gaze swept over him, sharp as a blade, as if she was assessing whether he was real or some illusion her mind had conjured.

The moment he saw her, Kain forced himself upright. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored them.

“The battle,” he rasped. “What’s happening? Did we lose? Are we prisoners?”

Nadia’s brow furrowed slightly. “You don’t know?”

Kain blinked. “Know what?”

For the first time since she entered, Nadia hesitated. It was brief, but it was there—a flicker of uncertainty. Then she exhaled through her nose, shaking her head before leveling him with a measured stare.

“We aren’t 100% sure what happened either,” she admitted. “We were hoping you could answer our questions. After you collapsed, Aegis… changed.”

Kain frowned. “Changed?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Aegis, at first, resisted the abyssal corruption with your help. But shortly after you lost consciousness, he began to change.”

Kain’s breath hitched. “Change how?”

Nadia crossed her arms. “At first, we thought he had succumbed to corruption. His body looked like theirs. His presence felt like theirs. We thought we’d lost him.”

Kain became frantic at this description and tried to check Aegis’ status through their bond. He’d wait to check the System when Nadia left.

Nadia shook her head. “Don’t worry. He turned on them instead.”

Kain’s mind reeled. Aegis… fought the abyssals?

“Physically, he now resembles the corrupted, but his intelligence seems intact,” Nadia continued. “More importantly, when the healers examined you, they found no signs of a broken contract. Whatever happened to him—it didn’t sever your connection.”

Kain exhaled, trying to process the information. If Aegis had truly been corrupted, their bond should have shattered. That was the natural order of things.

“But that’s not all,” Nadia said, her voice quieter now. “Aegis didn’t just fight. He suppressed them. The moment he awakened—or evolved, or whatever it was—his presence alone seemed to weigh down the abyssal creatures. It was like… they feared him. Even the few high-level ones couldn’t use their full strength”

Kain swallowed hard. “And that made them retreat?”

“We didn’t win,” she reminded him. “Not even close. But between his sudden transformation that caught them off guard and the fact that we fought harder than they anticipated, the enemy chose to withdraw. For now.”

Kain could only stare at her, his mind struggling to process everything.

Aegis had changed. Become something new.

Whatever had happened on that battlefield, it had completely changed Aegis. And, if Kain’s ‘dream’ was any indication, may have even extended to him.